


Landings

by stickster (all_these_ghosts)



Category: Star Wars Legends: Dark Nest Trilogy - Troy Denning, Star Wars Legends: New Jedi Order Era - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-29
Updated: 2006-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:26:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_these_ghosts/pseuds/stickster
Summary: Sometimes you fall. Sometimes someone catches you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fix-it for the Dark Nest trilogy.
> 
> Fun fact: I finished this fic on the same day I met my now-husband :) Getting old isn't all bad.

The floor and walls of the _Megador_ medward were endlessly white, broken only by the occasional grey, numbered door. Jaina stared dully at the scuff marks her boots had left on the tile when she'd come in six hours ago, bruised and exhausted with her vital cargo in tow.

Her vital cargo, who was now hooked up to machines most people wouldn't even recognize. His heart was beating on stolen energy behind one of those durasteel doors.

Every medward looked almost exactly the same, she thought. Every one on every Star Destroyer and passenger ship; every one from Coruscant to the outer rim. Long rows of doors, the smell of antiseptic, sharp silence broken only by occasional footsteps, anxiety and fear throbbing in the Force. How many times had she sat in this hard grey chair, waiting--hoping--for a friend or comrade to wake up? How many times had someone sat here waiting for her?

Jaina needed him not to let her down this time.

Even though she hated spending so much time in medwards, it was better than comparing funeral pyres.

A familiar Force presence shook her from her thoughts, and she glanced upward to meet friendly hazel eyes.

"Master Durron," she greeted, acknowledging him with a small nod.

He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, Jaina?"

"What?"

" _Master Durron_?" he mimicked, sitting down next to her. "We used to be friends, remember?"

She quirked a half-smile and stared straight ahead. "Best friends."

"Or something."

They sat together silently as minutes passed--a little more quickly, Jaina thought, than they had when she was alone.

"Really kriffed things up, haven't we," Jaina said softly.

Kyp sighed, and as Jaina turned to look at him, she noticed for the first time how old he'd gotten since the end of the war. The wrinkles and grey hairs that had only been beginning to show seven years ago were more pronounced, and though he remained a vigorous and vocal member of the Council, on the few occasions she had seen him outside of meetings, he'd just seemed tired.

"Yes," he said finally. "But we all have." He motioned toward the room to their left. "How is he?"

"Don't know," Jaina said, bitterness creeping into her voice. "He was barely conscious when we got there, and he passed out on the way. They're running some tests now, but we think..." She bit her lip almost hard enough to draw blood, then finished, "I think we just have to wait and see. If he wakes up, if he doesn't."

"And Zekk?"

"Still in bacta. He got hurt a lot worse than I did. But he'll be fine." She closed her eyes briefly and reached out to her mindmate; even in his barely-conscious state, he sent back a quiet wave of reassurance. "He'll be fine," she repeated, more for her own benefit than for Kyp's.

Kyp nodded again. "Your dad sent me," he said. "That's why I'm here."

Jaina winced, though she was embarrassed to have thought that Kyp had come for her. He'd said it himself: they _used to_ be friends. A very long time ago.

But he could still read her easily. His arm reached around her shoulders, pulling her into a loose embrace.. "He sent me because he knows I care about you, Jaina. He wanted someone to make sure you were okay, and he didn't think you wanted to see him or your mother."

"Not her, at least. I still can't believe she--"

"Jaina, didn't _you_ try to shoot him down during that battle?"

"Well--"

"It was a war, Jaina, and he was on the other side."

She looked down at her hands, tracing with her eyes the scars scattered across them. "It's stupid. We were all on the same side against the Vong. I hate that it changed." She shut her eyes tightly, as though she was trying to block out her surroundings or the memories that kept playing across the backs of her eyelids.

"Hate that everything changed," she admitted, her throat closing up around the words. "Hate that Jag hates me, hate that we don't trust Jacen, hate that we're not your friend anymore. At least during the war, even if everything was horrible and everything we loved was being destroyed, at least--we all knew what we were fighting for. We didn't always know _how_ to fight, but we knew that we should."

"And now you don't know what you're fighting for?"

"Didn't, for a long time. And the Taat gave me something, for a while, but that's gone, and--we don't know. I don't know anymore."

"You're not the only Jedi who's been struggling with that since the war ended, you know. Whether Master Skywalker likes it or not, the Jedi are at their best when we're fighting for something we believe in."

"I don't know what I believe in."

"Really?"

Jaina blinked--of all the reactions he could have had, that was the last she'd expected. "Yes, _really_ ," she said testily.

"I don't think that's true." She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. "Look. Even _I_ know what you believe in. You believe in protecting beings that can't protect themselves. You care about your family and your friends. You think that you and Jag shouldn't be fighting on opposite sides of a war when you both still love each other--"

"Do _not_ still love him."

"Jaina, everyone knows that's not true."

She sighed and propped her elbows on her knees, leaning forward. "I told him I loved him, and then I tried to shoot him down."

"I never thought you'd do it, even if you had to."

"Uncle Luke wants us to put the Order first," she explained.

"Getting involved in this conflict wasn't what the Order wanted you to do," Kyp reminded her. "Honestly, Jaina, you haven't done much at all that the Order wanted."

Jaina was quiet for a long moment--long enough that Kyp was certain he'd made her angry. Then, finally, she said, "Think we might resign, anyway."

Kyp's eyes widened. " _What?_ "

"We all know I'm not much of a Jedi. And I don't think I'll ever be able to put the Order first." She gritted her teeth. "Then again, maybe it'll be easy. We don't have anything else to fight for. Not with our family the way it is, and the Killiks don't want us and--Jag is dying."

He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head and twining his fingers together behind his neck. "Jaina, it's been years since you and Jag were together."

"Know that. It's just that--even though we couldn't be with him, we still--you know. And we always thought that maybe, after we were done fighting and--it's stupid."

Jaina hesitated for a long moment, looking everywhere except Kyp's expectant eyes. Because it was stupid, she knew it, but she needed to say it. Needed her words to be real outside of her own head, in a way they so rarely were as a Joiner.

"We just thought that one day we'd get to live happily ever after," she admitted, the words spilling out of her. "Before we became part of the Taat, we knew he still loved us and we--I knew that I'd want the life he wanted someday, and I knew he'd wait and then we could be together, but now..." She looked up at the blank white ceiling and finished, "I feel like I've lost everything I hoped for. Don't think we realized how much--how much we still cared."

Kyp put an arm around her and pulled her against him, and she nestled her face against his chest. "This isn't where I meant to be," she whispered.

He let out a sigh against her hair and loosened his grip on her. "Then you should probably fix that."

"Oh?"

"It'll be easy," Kyp said decisively. "Just go back a few years. Don't dump Jag. Don't mess around with the Killiks--"

"That's not helpful," she said sternly, trying to keep amusement from her voice.

"Or I could just erase all of Jag's memories from after the Vong war."

At that, Jaina laughed out loud, hitting him lightly on the arm. "Kyp," she admonished. "What would Master Skywalker have to say about that?"

Kyp pretended to consider, then smiled reassuringly and patted Jaina on the shoulder. "Considering I'd be helping his favorite niece--" and she let out a dry, uncertain laugh-- "I wouldn't be in much trouble."

She looked up at him seriously. "Do you think he'll ever forgive us?"

"Jag?" At Jaina's nod, Kyp continued. "I don't know, Jaina. It's not easy to go from trying to kill someone to marrying them."

She raised her eyebrows. "Are you saying we should ask Aunt Mara for advice?"

He smirked. "You know I'd never suggest that."

"Not even sure it's what I want, anyway."

"What, being Captain Fel's housewife and having lots of little Chiss babies?"

"Shut up," she said, turning to glower at him. "They wouldn't be Chiss." And, as an afterthought, added, "And we wouldn't be his housewife." Though somehow, after all of the fighting, a vacation sounded nice. _Not that raising Force-sensitive kids is much of a vacation_ , she reminded herself.

"Right. Look, Jay, you have to figure this one out for yourself," he said, standing up to leave. "But whatever you decide, you know I'll be there if you need a friend." He gave her a wicked grin. "Or more."

She grinned back, surprised and pleased by his long-absent yet familiar teasing, and reached out to squeeze his hand. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Kyp pressed a light, teasing kiss to the back of her hand, then motioned toward Jag's door. "Go figure things out. You'll probably have better luck with Jag than the Council will with Omas, if that's reassuring."

"Not really," she said lightly. "Kyp?"

He turned to face her. "Yeah?"

"Want to really stay friends this time? Instead of getting caught up in--everything else."

"What, have you missed me?"

Jaina shot him a twisted grin. "More than you know."

Kyp looked at her uncertainly, his eyes traversing the planes of her face, his Force presence nudging hers. Her smile faded at the inspection--at the idea that even Kyp was still edgy around her. Even Kyp thought she was strange, alien; even Kyp thought of her as a Joiner, a weakling, even after everything they'd been through.

"That's not it, Jaina," he said quietly, once again picking up on the outline of her thoughts. "That's not it at all."

"No?"

"No. You've changed, but--I was worried about you for a while, but you came back." Kyp offered her one last small smile. "I should've known you would. Welcome back, Goddess."  


* * *

Deep in the night, Aristocra Formbi sat in front of the communications console in the apartment he kept in Csalpar, trying to decide how, precisely, to explain himself.

It would have been easier if Jagged Fel had not been recovered, he decided. Of course it would be a shame to lose the young man, but it would certainly be easier to explain Fel's death than to explain why Jaina Solo had succeeded where the CEDF had failed. _Not "failed,"_ he corrected. _We simply weren't fast enough_. This realization, if anything, annoyed him further. The Chiss were masters of efficiency, and to be beaten by a Jedi--a _Joiner_ \--well.

He glared at the console and pushed one of the black buttons, opening a communications line.

At first no one responded, which he had expected--it was hours before sunrise, after all, and the Fels had had too many sleepless nights over the past months. But Syal--who had doubtless stayed awake as long as she could, hoping for news of her older son--answered within a few moments.

Syal Fel looked haggard, her chapped lips and sallow skin rendering her hardly recognizable as the galactically famous holostar she had once been. Upon seeing Formbi, her eyes grew even duller.

This, Formbi recognized, was a woman who expected bad news. He couldn't blame her, all things considered--and suddenly, he was rather pleased that he wouldn't have to inform her of yet another loss.

"Mistress Fel," he began. "I have some good news."

Her eyebrows lifted just slightly, as though she weren't quite ready to allow herself hope. "Yes?"

"Jagged has been recovered. He is currently aboard the New Republic Star Destroyer _Megador_."

"The New Republic--?"

"It was Jaina Solo who recovered him."

Syal sat back in her chair, confusion and relief mixing on her face. "So he's all right?"

"He is in critical condition. I have no information beyond that."

"Can I see him?" she asked quietly.

"Once he returns to Chiss space, of course."

"I meant now."

"Well--no. The political situation is such that--"

"He's my _son_ ," and her voice was so plaintive and _desperate_ that Formbi found it difficult to believe that this woman had spent the last three decades among his relentlessly composed people. Then again, Syal Fel was the consummate actress. He didn't doubt that the encounters he'd had with her had been as carefully considered as a battle strategy.

He sighed. "Mistress Fel, there is nothing I can do to gain you passage on board that ship. If there is a way for you to see him, it is not through legitimate political channels."

A pair of hands appeared on Syal's shoulders--large, rough hands that could belong to no one other than Baron Fel. "Then we will explore other methods," he said.

Formbi shifted in his seat, wishing Fel's face was within range of the holocam. Though it was difficult to intimidate a Chiss, there were few who didn't feel some apprehension upon sight of the burly human with the eye patch and limp that spoke too clearly to a dangerous past.

More, Fel had become less and less predictable over the past months. His loyalty to the Chiss--unlike that of his son--had never been publicly called into question, but all of the Fels had certainly become more conscious of their status within the Ascendancy. They were well-regarded by many, but they would never be Chiss, and in the end, Formbi knew, that was what would count against them.

"You know I cannot grant you permission to--"

"Then we are not asking permission." Fel's eyes were icy. A more whimsical man than Formbi might have wondered if the human were channelling the Csillan weather. "With the utmost respect, Aristocra, I am presently on leave, and what I choose to do during this time is not your decision."

"But you understand the political implications of your actions."

"Of course." There was not quite a sneer implied in Fel's voice, but it was close.

Formbi narrowed his eyes as though preparing to argue, then thought better of it. He knew how the Baron had reacted to the deaths of his eldest children, and hardly expected him to behave entirely rationally. After all, he was only human.

So Formbi left the Fels with a scowl and a warning: "Do what you will. This conversation did not happen."

For the first time in the conversation, Fel bent down to make certain Formbi could see him. "Understood."

With a press of a button, the humans blinked out of sight.

Formbi turned the unit off and stood up, gingerly stretching his arms before sitting down in front of the mountain of paperwork that had appeared over the past days: treaties and agreements, death notifications, requests for release of documents--people too often forgot that wars didn't end with spoken agreements, he thought. What he had to look through was only the smallest percentage of all the menial tasks to be done before things could return to some semblance of normal.

While others tended to the injured, cleaned their weapons and rebuilt their starships, Aristocra Formbi picked up a pen and began the real work of ending the war.  


* * *

"I don't like you," he began. "I've never liked you.

"But you should wake up."

When this received no response, Han sighed and leaned back in the chair, examining the boy--the _man_ , he admitted--lying on the cot. Jagged Fel's black hair struck a harsh contrast with the white sheets and pillow, but his face was pale enough to fade into the fabric.

"All right. Fine. Maybe you grew on me a little--a _little_. Even if your father is a turncoat--you turned out okay.

"But you should've tried harder." He made a face. "All I'm saying is--Jaina's stubborn, like her mom." _Like me_. "But if you'd kept after her--well, she wouldn't be a bughugger and you wouldn't be in a coma. Things would've worked out better all around."

The slow rise and fall of Jag's chest was his only answer, and Han cursed himself for not lecturing the kid when he'd been, well, conscious. Something about talking to a guy in a coma was a little weird.

 _Having a daughter who's part-bug is weirder_ , he thought wryly.

"Han, who are you talking to?"

He jerked his head around to see his wife standing in the doorway. "Nobody," he said hurriedly.

Leia crossed to Han and looked at Jag coolly. "Any news?"

"An emdee droid came through a couple minutes ago. Nothing."

"Have you seen Jaina?"

"I guess she sat in here for a while before Kyp made her get some rest."

"She needs it." Leia pulled a chair out from against the wall and sat down, leaning against Han. "I don't suppose she's very happy with me."

"She'll get over it. Jag should've ejected when you told him to." He slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning. "He didn't know you were such a great shot."

"Han, stop it."

"Hey, I'm just messing around." But his edgy, almost jumpy mood faded quickly at Leia's rebuke. "Think he'll wake up?"

Leia just shrugged.

"What, the Force isn't telling you anything?"

"If anyone could reach him in this situation, it wouldn't be me. Jaina--"

"Don't worry about her. She's tough."

"Not as tough as she wants us to think." She gave Han a sidelong glance. "That might be a genetic problem."

Han didn't argue--there was no point in arguing with Leia in general, and definitely not about something so obviously true. Instead he settled in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I keep thinking she should've married him when she had the chance," he said. "Might've kept her out of this mess."

"I doubt anything would have kept Jaina _or_ Jacen out of the Killik situation. They're too much like us."

A grin flickered quickly on and off Han's face. "If you mean they like playing the hero, Princess, then you're way off the mark. That's Luke's territory."

Leia's eyes fluttered shut, and her face took on a slack expression that Han had come to recognize--the same expression he'd seen on Luke's face, on the faces of his children, when they'd reached out in the Force. He sighed and shifted in his chair, annoyed at the pain in his right leg. He was in no way ready to be old, he decided, if "old" meant that sitting would become a painful activity.

"Jaina isn't answering me," Leia said. "And I'm not getting much from Jagged."

Instinctively, Han reached for his wife's hand and squeezed it. "They'll be okay."

Leia still looked drained, with bright bruises and cuts scattered across her skin and too-familiar dark circles under her eyes. She really was something else, he thought. Sure, he'd always been impressed by her--anybody who could tolerate political gatherings deserved some admiration, as far as he was concerned--but the older they got, the more he noticed it. The way she so skillfully dealt with politicians and bugs and dark Jedi alike, the fact that she'd lost hardly any of her energy and none of her drive--well. There had been times when he'd resented it, wished the two of them could live a quieter, or at least less dangerous, life, but he'd learned to appreciate what they had. Leia kept things interesting, that was for sure.

And it took one hell of a woman to start Jedi training in her fifties.

She smiled at him, in a soft way that made him certain she'd been poking around in his thoughts again, and gave him a quick kiss. "Thank you," she said. "I'm supposed to be meeting with Master Sebatyne in a few minutes, actually. I should go."

"Go ahead," Han said with a nod. "I'm good here."

He watched her go, then returned his attention to Jag. The kid still hadn't moved.

Han prodded him with a light punch in the shoulder. "She's gone, Jag. You can wake up. I swear I won't make fun of you."

Nothing.

Han allowed himself one last annoyed sigh, then muttered, "Damn," and settled in for a long night.

* * *

"Jaina."

She turned around to greet her mindmate, who was out of bed for the first time since Tenupe. "Hey," she said warmly, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Cilghal finally let you out?"

Zekk was smiling, but it looked--twisted, somehow, and sad. "Yes," he said. "Between the bacta tank and a couple of healing trances, we recovered earlier than she thought we would."

Jaina's tight-lipped expression matched his. She knew where this was leading. "We always do."

"We--I've actually been flight-certified."

"Oh?" she asked, not bothering to keep her tone casual--the remnants of the mindmeld kept them too closely linked for lies. "Going somewhere?"

"Dagobah," he confirmed. "Going to spend some time meditating on my place in the order. See if I can't figure things out." He put a rough hand on her shoulder, lightly smoothing out some of the wrinkles in her shirt. The movement was so casual, so spontaneous; she would miss this ease between them. "You're not coming."

"No--"

"Cilghal thinks it'll be good for us to spend some time apart," Zekk agreed.

They looked at each other, one of them or both of them--it still didn't matter--trying to decide how strange and foreign it would be to be _separate_ again, to be--and this, Jaina's word--whole.

"Still whole like this, Jaina. More than whole."

"But not whole _alone_."

He dropped his hand from her shoulder to the small of her back, pulling her close against him. "We'll miss this."

"Never would've imagined anything like this happening," she said, her cheek pressed comfortably to his chest. "When we were at the Academy. Thought we'd be partners or--don't know."

"Married." Zekk's voice was more than a little wistful.

"Maybe." Jaina pulled back and took his hands in hers. His hands, so much bigger than hers and just as worn, hands she'd known since childhood. She didn't have to ask him anymore if he remembered the things they'd done, because as long as she did, so did he. "We'll be--"

"All right. We will be." He looked at her uncertainly. "Is--Jag?"

She shook her head. "Not awake--"

"Yet. But--"

"They think he'll be okay. His parents are here."

Zekk's eyes widened in surprise. "They came here? Does General Antilles--"

"Think so. Haven't seen them, though. Kind of avoiding it."

"That's probably a good idea. Don't think they like us much right now." He bent to kiss her on the forehead. "Sorry. We should get going."

"Yeah, okay," she said, biting her lip. Even if there had been moments when she'd wished her thoughts were completely her own, moments when she wished she had some privacy in her own mind--she _was_ going to miss him. "Say hi to Lowie and everybody for us."

"It won't be a social visit. Just weeks of sitting in the swamp."

"It'll be better than what we're doing, anyway."

"What are you going to do?"

"Not sure." She shrugged. "Haven't really thought about it. Maybe Starfighter Command would take us. Otherwise--could be a mechanic or something."

"Whatever happens, Jaina, we--I'll always be here." His eyes searched hers, and the meld became potent with memories: leaving her on Hapes to face her darkness alone and leaving years before at the Academy because he couldn't face his own, all the times in their youth when he'd disappeared for weeks or months on end. All the times he thought he had failed her. "You know that, right?"

"'Course I do," she said softly. "Zekk, all that stuff--it doesn't matter. It was a long time ago." _We've been through too much since then_ , she added silently.

 _Love you_ , he said, the impression of the words quiet and small in her mind.

Jaina filled the meld with reassurance. _Know that, too_.

And after one more quick embrace, Zekk left.

She closed her eyes and turned her back as he walked away, not needing or wanting to watch him make his inevitable exit from her life. Sometimes she wondered if she chased them away--if the way she acted, the way she loved, somehow made her fulfill Luke's prophecy.

 _Some Sword I turned out to be_ , she thought, kicking the toe of her boot against the wall. She hadn't been able to protect Wuluw or any of the Killiks. She hadn't been able to keep Jacen from becoming _whatever_ he was becoming, and Jag--no, she decided, the only part of the prophecy she'd managed to fulfill was being alone.

When she looked back over her shoulder, Zekk was gone. His shoes hadn't left scuff marks on the clean floors, because unlike her, he'd never had that habit: he'd spent most of his childhood trying _not_ to be heard. He was gone as though he hadn't been there at all.

Then she felt him through the meld, and though its power over her was lessening by the day, the warmth he was sending spread throughout her body. Only seconds later, she felt more distantly a light nudge from Kyp, a nudge that was both a question and an answer, both an "Are you all right?" and an "I'm here if you need me."

Maybe not so alone, after all. With a slight smile, Jaina sent her gratitute back to both of them and inhaled slowly. _No. Not alone at all_.

* * *

Jacen let out a long, calming breath as he pulled the borrowed Hapan shuttle in for a landing. The palace's landing pad appeared completely deserted: not even a mechanic or security guard in sight, but Jacen knew well that there were plenty of people lurking in the shadows.

He pulled the hood of his drab brown robes over his face and blurred his features for good measure. He knew the risks Tenel Ka was taking in allowing him to come to Hapes: the suspicion that already surrounded the Queen and her new heir would only be compounded by the appearance of an unfamiliar man.

A quick scan of the hangar bay revealed around a dozen people hidden inside ships and even in the ceiling. _Let them watch_ , he thought with no small amount of disgust. _There's nothing to see_.

Mere moments found Jacen deep inside the palace walls, just outside the chambers where Allana and Tenel Ka were waiting. He knocked on the door, simultaneously identifying himself to Tenel Ka through the Force.

The door opened only seconds later, as though she had been standing behind it waiting for him. Though she was holding Allana with her only arm, Tenel Ka stepped into Jacen's embrace as soon as she saw him. He kissed her on the cheek, then turned his attention to his sleeping daughter.

"Hello there," he whispered, gently stroking Allana's soft hair.

"We have been waiting for you," Tenel Ka said gravely. "I was worried that you would not find a way to get here."

Jacen glanced up at her warmly. "I wanted to see you both," he said. "Nothing could have kept me away."

Tenel Ka handed him their daughter, then walked toward the window, which looked out on a small, private courtyard. "Jacen," she began uncertainly, "I asked you here because--I have heard things--"

"What things?"

"That during much of this war, you have been--provoking problems. I have been led to believe that you lied to your family, to Master Skywalker." She turned her head to look at him. "Jacen, I am uncertain."

He stood still for a moment, watching her. Even dressed in comfortable clothing, with her profile silhouetted against the lush greens of the courtyard and her room filled with Hapan finery, Tenel Ka looked every bit the queen she was. He sighed, then set Allana gently in her crib before crossing to Tenel Ka.

"There's nothing to worry about," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I've only done what was necessary."

"Then perhaps your idea of what is necessary differs from mine," she said sharply. "The Jacen Solo I knew would never have betrayed his family, or the Order."

"Times have changed. I have to protect you--and our daughter."

"I do not need your protection. I have survived twenty-seven years in the shadow of the Hapan court. I am more than capable of taking care of myself--and Allana."

"I know that--"

"Then demonstrate it." She reached out to cup his cheek, but the gesture was more calculating than tender--it kept him from turning away from her. "Your worry should not be for our safety, Jacen, but for your place in our lives."

He recoiled sharply. "What are you saying?"

"This is a warning, Jacen. You know that I--I care very much for you. But the person you are becoming cannot be a part of my life--or Allana's." She faced away again. "There is enough danger in this life without the troubles of the Dark Side."

"There _is_ no dark side--"

"As long as you believe that, you are at risk of becoming a part of it." Tenel Ka heaved a sigh, one that aged her enough to frighten Jacen. As much as he tried to contain it, hatred boiled up inside of him: hatred for a people so corrupt, for anyone who would threaten what was his. It wasn't fair that she had to stay here, on a planet that would never truly accept her, it wasn't fair that he couldn't be a part of her life because of who he was--he hated it.

" _There_."

He looked up, startled. "What?"

"Hate," she said simply. "Whatever you believe about the role of the Jedi, Jacen, it cannot be contested that hatred is not a part of it."

"Tenel Ka--"

"No." She turned from him, but not before he noticed the tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes. "You must go, Jacen."

"You _can't_ do this."

"I can. I must." Her shoulders shuddered slightly, and he wanted desperately to cross to her and wrap his arms around her, to soothe her. To protect her--from what? he wondered. _Not from me_. "Please leave. I do not wish to have you forcibly removed."

His mouth suddenly too dry to speak, Jacen just nodded and backed away. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and opened his mouth, willing any kind of protest to come from it. Instead, he sighed and brushed her Force presence with his, trying to tell her through his feelings what he didn't know how to say in words. He needed her to know that none of what he had done had sprung from hatred--sometimes from fear, but mostly from love, from a desire to see the people he loved happy. He needed her not to say goodbye in a way that felt so terribly permanent.

"I am not giving up on you, Jacen Solo," she said in response, and for the first time, one corner of her mouth turned up in what, for Tenel Ka, approximated a smile. "If you would like, think of this as a trial. Master Skywalker ordered our friends to Dagobah to reconsider their places with the Jedi. I am simply asking you to think about what it is you value most."

Jacen laughed, a harsh, dry sound. "That's simple? Good joke."

"I learned from the worst," Tenel Ka said seriously. She considered him for a moment, then walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodbye, Jacen."

He pulled his hood back over his head and brought her hand to his lips for a last light, teasing kiss. "Not goodbye. How about--I hope to see you soon."

Tenel Ka released his hand and ushered him out the door, back towards the passage through which he had entered so shortly before. "I hope to--no. I will see you soon, Jacen Solo."

He grinned, eyes sparkling beneath the dark fabric of his hood. "This is a fact."

* * *

Jaina leaned against the doorframe, staring in at Jag's still form. He was finally breathing on his own, the slow rise and fall of his chest a testament both to the wonders of medicine and to Jag's physical strength. He was mostly out of danger, she had been informed, but that didn't mean much--the emdee droid had assured her that he was unlikely ( _only a twenty percent chance_ ) to die, but it didn't know what kind of shape Jag would be in when he woke up. There was no way to know.

The emdee droid had an even smaller chance of discovering how, exactly, Jag would react upon seeing Jaina again. _Not well_ , she thought grimly. It had occurred to her that it might be better if she stayed away--but she couldn't. Not if there was even the smallest chance of his feeling grateful, or even just a little bit less angry--even now that they were nothing to each other, it hurt her badly to think he hated her.

A very human noise sounded from the bed and Jaina turned around, swallowing hard. "Jag?"

His voice was scratchy and raw, and she could barely understand him as he said her name.

"You're awake," she said wonderingly. She crossed quickly to his bed and knelt beside it. "Force, Jag, I didn't think you were ever going to wake up."

Jag reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it with surprising force. "Jaina," he repeated.

Her mouth, acting of its own accord, stretched into a wide smile. "It's me," she whispered, gently caressing the back of his hand with her thumb. "How are you feeling?"

Jag squinted. "Out."

Jaina sat back. "What?"

" _Get out_." He pulled his hand from hers and shut his eyes tightly. "Leave."

She didn't move--she couldn't. She'd rescued him. She _loved_ him. She had a right to--

Nothing. She'd betrayed him, ruined his family's name and fortune. Her own mother had shot his clawcraft out of the sky.

Nothing.

Jaina stood up slowly and left the room, shutting the door behind her. She was shaking, though she hardly noticed. Once outside, she leaned her forehead against the door, glad that Jag's room was windowless. If he found it so easy to dismiss her--and he obviously did--the last thing she wanted was for him to see her upset.

Though she hated herself for thinking it, what she really wanted _most_ was for Jag to see her upset--and then pull her into his arms and kiss the top of her head and make everything better, the way he used to.

She gritted her teeth and turned around, hoping to find an emdee droid around. She'd tell it that Jag was awake, and then--leave. Or maybe just sleep.

Syal Fel entered the medward just as Jaina was leaving, thwarting her plans. Upon seeing Jag's mother, Jaina winced--they'd never actually met, but she was fairly sure the older woman would recognize her. She was also sure that it would be a less than pleasant meeting, all things considered.

Syal paused, and Jaina tried not to shrink from the older woman's icy gaze.

"Jaina Solo."

Jaina just nodded and stood straight, letting Syal evaluate her. She was starting to think that she'd been right not to go back to Csilla with Jag all those years ago--there was no way she would have stood up to Wynssa Starflare's scrutiny.

She thought without a trace of irony that Syal might honestly go easier on the woman who tried to kill Jag than the woman who tried to marry him.

"Um," Jaina said, breaking the silence and gesturing vaguely toward Jag's room. "Jag--Jag's awake."

Syal's expression lightened instantly. "He's all right?"

"Yes," the younger woman replied, eyes darting around, searching for a way out. "I'll just let you--"

But Syal walked past her without hearing. She pushed open the door to Jag's room, and from down the hall Jaina could hear her happy exclamations.

The lump in Jaina's throat grew. This was a family she could have been a part of, she knew. And then Jag wouldn't be here. Her life wouldn't be a mess--

It was too late for any of that now, Jaina reminded herself. The past four years couldn't be undone. She'd refused him too many times, and now--there was nothing. No chance for forgiveness.

She took a deep breath and walked back to her quarters.

* * *

"You're an idiot, Fel," Kyp announced from the doorway.

Jag set his cup of water on the night table and adjusted himself so he sat higher on his bed. "Excuse me?"

"An _idiot_ ," Kyp repeated, crossing the room and standing over Jag. "Do you have any idea at all what you just did?"

Jag blinked, considering. "Took a sip of water?" he said cautiously.

Kyp pointed toward the door. "To _Jaina_."

"Ah. Nothing she didn't deserve," Jag said, his voice as cold and hard as durasteel. "Nothing she hasn't already done to me."

"Do you know what she did to find you?" Kyp hissed. "She was five hours out of bacta and she raced out in a ship she'd never flown before, got shot at by a CEDF ship that was orbiting the planet you were stuck on, _deliberating_ about whether or not to recover you, and then walked all over that kriffing valley trying to find you. She _carried_ you back to her ship."

A small smirk appeared on Jag's face. "She's still in love with me. Not you." Part of him winced at the uncharacteristic display of conceit. Jaina's affections had always been a foregone conclusion--never something worth arguing or discussing, and certainly nothing worth gloating over.

Kyp blinked. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Her father said--never mind." Jag shook his head to clear it, wincing at the sharp pain in his temple as he did. "There's nothing left for me to say to her. Not anymore."

"You could have thanked her."

"For what? For ruining my family's name? Their fortune? My career?" he snapped. "I owe nothing at all to Jaina Solo."

"Except your _life_ ," Kyp pointed out. "And you owe that to me, too, so if it'll make you feel better, you can repay your debt to me by paying it to her."

Jag shook his head. "What are you doing here, Durron?"

"She's been hurt enough," the older man said quietly. "I'm not saying you should be with her, or that you should get back together. Whatever happened between you two isn't any of my business. But I do know what she went through to save you, and I have some idea what she's going through now. She deserves your forgiveness, Jag."

"I'll consider it." An awkward silence crept between them, and after a moment, Jag spoke again. "She is--all right?"

"She's okay, mostly." Kyp sighed. "I haven't seen her much either, these last few years. I got caught up working with the Council, and she's been out on missions all the time. The only time I spend near her is when we're in our snubfighters. And you know how Jaina is about comm silence."

"But she's happy?"

Jag looked so genuine, so hopeful, that it pained Kyp a little to tell him otherwise. Then again, maybe compassion would motivate Jag like a life debt hadn't.

"I don't know. She's had a rough time," he said honestly. "She and Jacen had some kind of falling out, she's been working too hard, and this whole bug thing has just been--weird. So _happy_ isn't really the word, no."

Jag barely cracked a smile. "That makes two of us, then."

"Or three."

"Indeed."

"So you'll talk to her?" Kyp asked.

Jag looked down at his heavily bandaged arm, ribcage; made a note of the pounding headache that had raged since he'd woken up. All of the painful but very compelling reminders that he was still alive, if barely.

"I will talk to her," Jag said.

"Good. That's all I wanted," Kyp said, sounding pleased. He held out a hand for Jag to shake.

"Is that necessary?"

The older man raised an amused eyebrow. "Not if it's going to seriously injure your pride. You've had enough damage for one week. How's your head, by the way?"

For the first time since he'd woken up, and much to Kyp's surprise, Jag actually smiled. "I did like you, Kyp," he said. "I know I have plenty of reasons not to. And my head is fine. Quite possibly it's been sorted out a bit."

"My goal in life," Kyp snorted. "Sorting out snobby, self-entitled Imperial kids. You know, suddenly my entire purpose has become clear."

"My apologies. I did not intend to credit you with my 'sorting out.'"

"Good. As long as we're clear."

"We are. Thank you."

"Any time."

* * *

"If you wrote me off, I'd understand it, 'cos I've been on some other planet. But come pick me up--I've landed."

* * *

It didn't take long for Tahiri and Lowbacca to find Zekk once he landed, thanks to Luke's precise coordinates. Both of them greeted their former classmate--and mindmate--with warm hugs and smiles and reassurance that everything was going well. Tesar, Tahiri said, was enjoying finding new species to hunt and eat. She and Lowbacca had been spending hours every day meditating, training, sparring. And they were certain that, whatever Master Skywalker thought at the moment, they belonged in the Order.

"But," Tahiri added thoughtfully, "We think we're going to go back to Zonama Sekot. There's still a lot of work we can do there, work that not a lot of Jedi can or want to do. Besides, now that the nest is gone--" Lowbacca grumbled mournfully at this--"there's not really anywhere else we'd feel at home."

Lowie turned to Zekk and asked when Jaina was coming.

"She's not," Zekk replied, keeping his tone casual.

"We didn't think she would." Tahiri smiled at Zekk. "But you're here. We weren't sure if you'd come or not. We thought you might want to stay with Jaina, but--"

"You weren't sure she'd want to stay with me," Zekk finished, giving her a half-smile in return.

"We weren't going to say it."

Zekk shrugged. "We couldn't give up the Order. Not even for Jaina. It's--"

"The only place we belong, now that the nest is--gone."

"Yeah."

The three stood in silence, though images passed rapidly among them. The meld hadn't completely dissipated, and all three were grateful for it: losing the nest was hard enough. One of them--Zekk couldn't tell who it was, and it didn't matter--pictured the nest as it had been when they first Joined it. They reveled in that sense of wholeness for a long moment.

"Did you hear about Jacen?" Tahiri finally asked. "What Lowie and Tesar and us think, anyway. Why we got sent way out here."

Zekk shrugged. "Jaina's upset with him."

"It's more than that. The decisions he's been making--"

"You think he's falling to the dark side."

Lowbacca grumbled something deep and low, something like, "Falling--or already fallen."

Zekk swallowed hard. He hated the idea that this could be happening to Jacen--his childhood friend, his best friend's twin brother. But the war wasn't far behind them, and Zekk still remembered vividly what the Vong were capable of. It was the only thing that made sense: What else could explain Jacen's transformation from the compassionate, sensitive boy with a terrible sense of humor Zekk used to know into the cold, mysterious, closed-off Jedi he had become?

Tahiri's frown deepened. "Zekk, don't blame this on the Yuuzhan Vong. Jacen isn't the only Jedi they held in captivity. He is the only one who's acting like this. It's no excuse."

The black-haired man sighed. "We know, Tahiri. We're sorry. It's just that--we know what you went through. And that you know more about them than we do. But it's hard to imagine Jacen doing things like this--tricking us, tricking Jaina--without some reason.."

Lowie added his assent, and Tahiri nodded. "You're worried about him. We all are. But there's not much we can do for either of them out here--and it's Jacen. We have to trust him to take care of himself. Even if he's lost his way, he'll find it again."

Zekk blew out a long breath. "You're right." _Hope so_ , he added, and felt a brush of reassurance in response.

"We kind of hope Luke sends him here, though," Tahiri continued. "With all the life on this planet, you're surrounded by the Force. Everything just seems clearer."

As if to demonstrate her point, Tesar came bounding up, followed closely by a three-legged animal about half a meter long. "Look," he rasped. "It followed this one home."

Tahiri laughed and bent down so she was eye-to-eye with the creature. She closed her eyes briefly, then said, "We're not as good at this stuff as Jacen is, but we think it likes us. And it's not poisonous."

Lowie, who had had one paw on the handle of his lightsaber, stepped cautiously forward. The creature circled Lowie twice, then dug its nose into the ground. A few seconds later, it pulled out a long grey slug and offered it to Tahiri and Lowie.

"We have a pet?" Zekk asked, crossing his arms. This was too strange. _Or_ , he amended, _too normal_.

"So it appearz," Tesar said. He hissed a laugh.

"Then let's take it home."

Zekk raised an eyebrow. _Home? What kind of home could we have out here, so far away from the nest?_ "Where've you been living?"

"Well, Luke gave us the coordinates for his old Master's house," Tahiri said. "But um, Lowie's a lot taller than Master Yoda. So are you, for that matter. We set up camp about half a kilometer from here. It's not exactly Coruscant, but we've had worse."

At that, each of the Jedi offered up an image, an idea of a things that had been worse: captivity on a worldship; the jungle floor of Kashyyyk; a week stranded in an abandoned cave on Barab 1; the underlevels of Coruscant. The four of them grimaced simultaneously.

"So the meld is what's kept you from complaining, huh?" Zekk teased. Tahiri grinned sheepishly, and he shook his head, putting an arm around the smaller woman's shoulders. "All right. Let's go home."

* * *

"Good morning, my love," Luke said softly, stroking his wife's cheek. Even though he'd known Mara would be fine, he still hated the moments he spent sitting in medwards, waiting for his loved ones to awake.

She gave him a weak smile. "So, Farmboy? Did we win?" Her tone was mock-conversational, as though she had fallen asleep in the middle of a discussion rather than gotten struck down in battle.

He nodded, not taking his eyes from hers. "As much as we ever do."

"That's good," she said, still groggy from the pain medications she'd been on for the past few days. "Where's Ben?"

The boy popped up from the end of her bed, where he'd been occupying himself with a model X-wing kit. "Hi, Mom," he said quietly.

Mara held out her hand to him and he came over next to her. Brushing the bright red hair out of her son's eyes, she said, "I've missed you."

Ben raised a dubious eyebrow. "You've been sleeping," he reminded her. "How could you miss me?"

Exhaling a sigh of defeat, Mara turned a glare on Luke. "He's just as annoying as you."

Luke didn't jump to the bait; instead, he looked away, still running his hands through Mara's hair.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Luke still didn't look at her--his gaze had grown distant, as it did more and more often these days. "It's nothing," he said, not wanting to burden her with his problems when she was in this condition. "I'm just worried about the Order."

"That's nothing new."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Jaina is leaving."

This got Mara's attention. She grabbed Luke's hand, trying to surprise him into looking at her--and it worked. "She's _leaving_?"

"She told me yesterday."

"What about Zekk?"

"He left for Dagobah this morning. Jaina wouldn't go, and when I told her that all of the Joiners needed to sort things out, she said that she didn't. She said that she was going to leave." _To give up_ , Luke thought, surprising himself with the bitterness he felt.

Mara let her head drop back to the pillow. "I expected more from her," she said with a sigh. "Maybe that's unfair of me--"

"But she was your apprentice," Luke finished. "It's hard to accept that she's out of our reach now--we have to let her make her own decisions. She does care about the Order, I'm sure of it. She might just need time."

"None of us have had that," Mara pointed out.

"Which may be part of the problem." He sighed. "I'm thinking of asking Jacen to talk to her. Does that sound too desperate?"

A knock at the door alerted Luke to his nephew's arrival. "Good timing," he said to Mara, simultaneously sending a greeting to Jacen through the Force. "Come in!"

Jacen entered with his arms crossed, a posture that would normally suggest hostility, but now bespoke hesitation, even apprehensiveness. "Masters Skywalker," the young man said, his gaze flickering from one face to another. Luke raised his eyebrows at the formal greeting, then glanced down at his son. Ben got the hint, gathered up the pieces of his X-wing, and left the room with a brief smile at Jacen.

"Hello, Jacen," Mara said warmly. "How have you been?"

He swallowed. "I've been better."

"So you've heard about Jaina?" Luke interjected, hoping to find that Jacen was already planning to talk to her.

Jacen nodded slowly.

"I think she's making a mistake," Luke continued. "Mara and I were thinking that maybe you could--"

"I can't," Jacen said. "Jaina and I aren't really speaking. And--I'm not sure I'm in any place to convince anyone to stay in the Order."

"What do you mean?"

The younger man swallowed hard, radiating worry and even--fear? What could Jacen possibly fear from his family? Luke placed a hand on Jacen's shoulder, trying to offer him comfort.

"We need to talk, Uncle Luke," Jacen said. "I--I've made mistakes. Lately, I mean--I've done some things that--I think I need help," he finished lamely.

"Jacen, I know your family has been worried about you, but I haven't seen anything to worry me," Mara said. "You've just learned a lot these past few years--you're growing up. It's bound to make some people feel uncomfortable."

He shook his head. "It's not just that, Aunt Mara. Jaina--I think she's right to be worried. I've been pushing her away, I've--I can't explain it, exactly."

"If you think you need some time to figure this out, a few of the other Jedi are--"

Jacen interrupted his uncle. "I know that Tahiri and some of the other Jedi are staying on Dagobah for a while. I don't think that's the right path for me. And I don't want to leave the Order like Jaina. I was just hoping that there is something else I could do to help--something that would take me off the frontlines for a while."

Luke examined his nephew carefully. "I'm not sure if this appeals to you, but we could always use extra help at the Academy. You could help with the younger students--and if you were inclined, I do think there is a great deal some of the older Jedi could learn from you, as well." _And a great deal you could learn from us_ , Luke added silently.

"Okay," Jacen said slowly. "I think I could do that."

"Good." Luke felt a nudge from Mara: one that said she wasn't sure this was the right path for Jacen, that she thought Jacen's talents could be better used elsewhere. In response, he simply confirmed his belief that there was something troubling going on with Jacen. Perhaps this teaching appointment would give Luke the chance to find out what it was. "So we'll see you on Ossus within the week?"

"Count on it," the younger man said, his words belying the lack of confidence Luke sensed from him.

"I will."

Jacen pulled his hood back over his head and turned to go.

"And Jacen?" Luke called. "May the Force be with you."

His nephew gave him only the ghost of a smile, but his presence warmed. "And with you."

* * *

Jag found her lying beneath a borrowed X-wing in the hangar bay. It seemed appropriate, he thought. This was the place where people made repairs, the place where broken things got put back together.

She slid out from underneath the ship just in time to meet his eyes.

"Oh," she said, staring up at him from the ground.

"Hello," Jag replied. He offered her a hand up, and she stared at it suspiciously for a long moment before she took it and pulled herself up.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She wouldn't stop staring at him. It was making him uncomfortable--uncomfortable, he thought. It was something he only ever felt around Jaina. She still seemed to be the only thing that made his confidence waver.

"You're leaving," he said finally, awkwardly.

Jaina nodded, never taking her eyes from his. "Nothing to stay here for. We just wanted to make sure you--that Zekk recovered before I left."

"You're leaving the Order," he clarified, ignoring that troublesome we and the mention of Zekk. He hadn't known she was leaving the ship so soon. He'd assumed that she'd wait around a few days, until all the paperwork had been sorted out. Then again, as she'd rather pointedly noted, he hadn't given her any reason to stay. _Though I may have helped chase her away. Again._

"Oh," Jaina said, sounding disappointed. "How did you hear about that?"

"Word gets around."

She nodded again, then looked at him curiously, head cocked to one side. "Jag, what are you _doing_ here?"

Now it was his turn to look embarrassed. "I wanted to--" Somehow he couldn't bring himself to say _apologize_ , not after all she'd done. "Say thank you," he finished. "For saving me."

"You would have done the same for me."

Jag opened his mouth to deny it, then stopped. She was right, of course. His memories of her were still close enough that he wouldn't have been able to stay away had she been in his situation. "Yes, well. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said quietly, looking away.

He took a step forward and lifted her chin with a crooked finger. Her dark brown eyes opened wide at the sudden contact and stayed locked on his, and if Jag were a more sentimental man, he would have sworn that the past ten years were illuminating every speck of light in her eyes.

"Jaina," he said, his voice uncertain and low, and altogether too reminiscent of the twenty-year-old Jagged Fel that had so foolishly started this entire saga. "You said you still loved me. Why?"

Her eyes tracked briefly away from him and her lips turned up in a tiny smile. "Why do I still love you or why did I say it?"

"Either," he said quickly. "Both."

"Said it because it's true, and we--I wanted you to know." She sighed. "I love you because I'm an idiot."

"You are. But that isn't an answer."

"It's all you're getting, flyboy."

The tension in the air released a little--enough. Her easy use of that particular nickname was dangerous, maybe; but more, it reminded them both of their hardly distant past. It was difficult, Jag thought, to hate someone you'd once loved when they stood before you. When you could see the hair in which you had tangled your fingers and the lips you had kissed so many times--it was easy to lose yourself in those small familiar things.

"How long do you have to stay here?" Jaina asked.

Jag shrugged. "They want to keep me under observation for another week. They are worried I may have contracted a virus while I was on Tenupe."

"Why would they think that?" Her voice was a little too high and sharp to be nonchalant, and she winced at the sound of it.

He graced her with a small smile. "It's nothing to be concerned about, Jaina. It's only a precaution, and even if I do have it, the effects are not severe."

"Oh. Okay. Good."

"I agree." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I did not go into this war intending to die."

"I warned you before I tried to shoot you."

"And I'm not dead."

"No," she said, and he couldn't quite discern whether or not she was happy about it, "you're not."

"I would have been rather upset if I had survived the Vong war only to be killed by my ex-girlfriend's mother."

She smiled in spite of the grim topic. "That would've been embarrassing."

"Quite."

An awkward silence fell between them.

"So," Jaina said.

"So."

"I met your mother."

Jag stifled a smirk, imagining his fiery, angry mother encountering his fiery, defensive ex--whatever Jaina was, exactly. "Oh? How did it go?"

"About as well as I could expect."

"That badly?"

"She seems to think I mistreated you. Can't imagine what gave her that impression."

"Nor can I."

"Jag."

"Yes?"

"Do you ever think about--I don't know. Other ways things could be?"

He looked past her, toward the borrowed starfighter with the Rebel--the Alliance--symbol painted on the side. Insignia he had once worn--insignia she had considered giving up, for him. "No," he said quietly. "Ways things _could have_ been, yes. But I do not believe there is any other way they could be."

Jaina nodded; turned her head away from him. "So once the observation period is up, you're going back to the Unknown Regions?"

"For the time being. And you?"

She reached out a hand to stroke the ship's exterior. "Not sure yet," she said, following his gaze towards the Alliance symbol. "I'm going to try to get a position in a squadron, I think. I'm not sure they'll want me."

"Surely they wouldn't turn down one of the Galactic Alliance's best pilots."

"You mean that Darklighter wouldn't turn down the daughter of Han Solo and Princess Leia," she retorted.

"And here I was thinking that your family's name was as tarnished as mine."

"If it's not, it's no thanks to me," she said, grinning. "I've spent my entire life making people angry, seems like."

"If my father's stories about _your_ father are any indication, that's an inherited trait." He leaned against her fighter. "I suppose we'll both need new ships," he said absently.

"Planning to send my mother the bill?"

Jag patted the X-wing. "Fair's fair. After all, thanks to your Wookiee friend, my family certainly cannot afford one."

"But you're a commander," Jaina objected. "Won't the CEDF give you a ship?"

"If I haven't lost my commission."

"Oh." She paused; bit her lip to stop herself from apologizing yet again. "And if you have? What'll you do?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." She scuffed the toe of one boot against the floor. "I was just thinking that if you were sticking around long enough to visit a civilized planet, we could grab a cup of caf sometime. To catch up. It's been a while."

"And Zekk wouldn't mind?Ó

Jaina narrowed her eyes. "Zekk's _not_ my boyfriend. He hasn't ever been my boyfriend, and I haven't _wanted_ him to be my boyfriend since I was sixteen years old."

"You're rather defensive about it," Jag pointed out teasingly.

"Maybe because everyone keeps _asking_ me about it. There's nothing going on with us," Jaina insisted. Her voice grew low, serious--nervous, he thought. "Jag--I told you. I love you. Still. Always. And--"

"And?" he prompted.

"And if I thought there was any chance you might still feel the same way, I wouldn't leave," she finished quietly. "I've been pulled in a lot of different directions since the war ended, and I've been running all over hoping to find that one of them will feel right or at least make me happy. And none of them have." Jaina's voice broke, and Jag had to strain to hear her last words. "And I'm just so tired of running."

He had to turn away from her for a moment, as much as it pained him. He couldn't think while she stood before him, beautiful and sad and asking him to do all of the things he had once so desperately wanted. _Then again_ , he thought. _I havenÕt been able to think rationally since I met her. No reason to start now._ Jag crossed the half-meter between them and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then maybe it's time to stop."

Jaina closed her eyes, not yet willing to believe that Jag could possibly mean what she wanted him to mean. She couldn't stop her mind from racing, from thinking of how desperately happy she could be: how happy, how _whole. I know who I am when I'm with you_ , she wanted to say; _I am finally_ I _instead of_ us. Instead, she went for lighthearted: "Maybe. After all, the caf isn't any better anywhere else."

"Then you've been running to the wrong places," Jag said seriously. "I'll have you know that the caf in the Unknown Regions is _infinitely_ better than the dreck they serve on Alliance ships."

"Yes, but given my reputation with the Chiss, I think I'll never get to find out."

"Unless I brought some back to the Alliance with me," Jag suggested.

"When you come to visit?"

"Or when I come to stay."

His voice was quiet and earnest, and the sentiment so unexpected, that she finally found herself completely unable to speak.

"Jaina, I don't know if there is anything for me to return to," Jag said softly. "With everything that has happened these past few months, it is entirely likely that I will be asked to resign from the CEDF. My family has fallen from grace; they've had to leave home."

"And it's all my fault."

"Well--yes." This conversation was becoming frustrating--it wasn't as though he needed her to remind him of all the reasons why he was being unforgivably stupid in forgiving her. "Believe me, Jaina, no one knows better than I that you are to blame for much of what's befallen my family. Unfortunately, that knowledge has done little to change the way I feel about you."

"Feel?" she echoed, sounding dizzy.

"So if you were going to be available, I could be enticed to have that cup of caf," he finished. "Strictly professional, of course. If I am going to be forced to begin my career anew here in the Alliance, your friendship will be invaluable."

"Strictly professional."

"Are you repeating everything I say intentionally?"

Jaina just looked at him, then took both his hands in hers and placed them on either side of her waist. She placed her own hands on his shoulders; said quietly, "It's really hard for me to formulate sentences right now. Copying yours is much easier."

The warmth of her skin through her shirt was familiar; intoxicating. Her hands on his shoulders, gradually moving around his neck to pull their bodies closer together. Jag exhaled, pressing his forehead to hers. "Would it be all right if I did something unprofessional?" he asked.

"If you don't, I will," she said, forcing the words past the lump in her throat, but still unable to keep a grin from her face.

And Jag closed the centimeters between them and kissed her for the first time in three years, even though it was undoubtedly the wrong thing to do, even though it was the one thing that could make his life _more_ difficult--he kissed her.

He felt like the leading man in one of his mother's holofilms. As a boy, Jag had always scoffed at those climactic scenes when his mother finally kissed some strange man while foreign instruments played loudly. At twenty-nine years old, he was finally beginning to understand their appeal.

Jaina pulled away just far enough that she could lean in and kiss him again--and again, and again, and so many times that Jag would have lost count if he'd been counting to begin with. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her close enough that each of her heartbeats echoed in his ears; synchronized with every press of her lips against his.

When they finally pulled apart, Jaina looked up at him: unsmiling lips swollen and red; hair fallen out of its loose braid to play across her shoulders. "Please don't go," she said, voice rough, and it wasn't quite a plea, but it was close enough to tear at his heart. "Please, Jag.Ó

He pressed a finger against her lips. "I love you, Jaina. And I'm still not going anywhere--not now. Not ever. You're stuck with me for good this time."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

And they stood completely still, holding each other in the middle of the hangar bay while pilots and ships and mechanics swarmed around them in slow-motion.

And after years of floating aimless and unanchored, Jaina finally felt like she'd landed.


End file.
